


i ain't proud of my address (in this torn up town)

by hawksonfire



Series: Winterhawk Bingo 2019 [3]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awesome Clint Barton, Biting, Board Games, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Boys Kissing, Bucky is a demonfucker, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint Barton Feels, Competitiveness, Deaf Clint Barton, Demon Clint Barton, Dirty Jokes, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, Gay Bucky Barnes, Implied Sexual Content, Laughter During Sex, Love Confessions, M/M, Magical lube Appearance, Masturbation, Monopoly (Board Game), Nosy Steve Rogers, PDA, POV Bucky Barnes, Pansexual Clint Barton, Porn with Feelings, Post-Coital Cuddling, Public Display of Affection, Star Spangled Bingo, Top Clint Barton, WinterHawk Bingo, background Pepper/Tony/Rhodey, background Steve/Sam/Thor, romantic sex, safe sex, thank you demon magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-15 22:50:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21260921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawksonfire/pseuds/hawksonfire
Summary: Bucky’s eyes snap up to Clentonfranelbub’s face, cheeks burning. “You’re a -”“Demon, yes,” Clentonfranelbub says patiently. “You can call me Clint, my full name’s a bit of a mouthful.”That’s not the only thing about you that’s a mouthful, Bucky thinks. He shakes his head. No thirsting over the demon, Barnes, he tells himself. “James,” he says hoarsely.“Cool,” Clint says, looking around the apartment. “Nice place you got here.”





	1. October

**Author's Note:**

> Technically, I wrote this for Kinktober 2019 for the last day, but I don't wanna add it to the collection because I just don't wanna. So there. ANYWAY enjoy some Demon!Clint + Bucky thirsting over said demon. This will be updated in parts, mostly because I'm not actually finished writing it yet, but I wanted to get something out for Halloween anyway. 
> 
> Winterhawk Bingo Holiday Challenge - Halloween: Trick or Treat  
Clint Barton Bingo Square I1 - Pining.

**Bucky - October**

“Just summon a demon. Casually,” Bucky says blankly, “Summon an entity from hell.”

Steve nods, shoving a cookie in his mouth. “Yeah, it’s easy.”

Bucky lets his head fall into his hands, pushing the heels of his hands into his eyes until he sees sparks. “Stevie, I’m not going to summon a demon.”

“Why not?” Steve asks, “The worst thing that can happen is nothing.”

“No, Steve,” Bucky mutters, “The worst thing that can happen is me summoning an _ actual _ demon!” He leans back in his chair.

“It’s just one measly paper, Buck,” Steve says logically, “What’s the big deal?”

Bucky throws his hands in the air, giving in and grabbing a cookie. “The problem, Steven, is that this paper is worth half my grade, it’s due in three days and I haven’t even started it yet!”

Steve blinks at him, chewing on his fourth cookie slowly. “So summon a demon.”

Bucky groans and stomps away, moving into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him, and flopping onto his bed. He grabs a pillow, shoves his face into it and screams. At the top of his lungs. He screams until he’s red in the face, then puts the pillow back down and walks back out into his kitchen. 

“Feel better?” Steve asks.

“I’m not summoning a demon, Steve,” Bucky says.

~~

Two days later, Bucky walks into his apartment with a bag of supplies hanging from his wrist. “Not a word,” he growls at Steve as he starts pulling black candles and a large book out of the bag. Steve mimes zipping his mouths shut and holds his hands in the air, smirking. 

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Steve says, backing away and dodging the pillow Bucky throws at him. 

Bucky grunts at him, setting up the candles the way he should according to the book’s instructions. He hears the front door close and a tiny bit of tension drains from his shoulders. He loves Steve, really, but he’s not a fan of having someone watching over his shoulder when he’s doing something this dumb. 

Once the candles are set up, he flips through the book, trying to find an easy-ish incantation thingy that will also have a demon strong enough to help him - well, Bucky’s not exactly sure what he wants this demon to do. He hasn’t let himself think that far ahead, just in case this thing doesn’t work so he can brush it off as an amusing waste of time at best, and a mess of wax he’ll have to clean up himself at worst.

“I, James Buchanan Barnes, do summon thee, Clentonfranelbub. Answer my call, demon, and heed my wishes.” The room seems a lot smokier all of a sudden, and Bucky lets out a cough before squinting back down at the book. “Seal with blood - what the fuck?” He rereads it twice, but the book doesn’t change - to complete the summoning, he has to seal it with blood. His own blood. 

Bucky groans, reaching up to his ear and unhooking the little gold hoop through his left lobe and stabbing his thumb with it. Hissing in pain, he squeezes a single drop into one of the candles, then shoves his thumb into his mouth. He repeats the incantation twice more, then squeezes another drop of blood into the same candle. Then, with bated breath, he waits. And waits. And waits. 

Ten minutes later, nothing’s happened and Bucky’s head is beginning to throb from all the candle smoke. “Damn,” he mutters, “There goes my GPA.” Leaning forward, he blows out the candle in front of him, then looks up and yelps. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Uh, Clentonfranelbub?” The demon - because it’s clearly a demon - says. “You called me, buddy, I just picked up the phone.” Clentonfranelbub has horns like a ram curling out of the sides of his head, bright purple eyes, and feathers running up and down his torso. He’s also completely naked. “Eyes up here, pal.”

Bucky’s eyes snap up to Clentonfranelbub’s face, cheeks burning. “You’re a -”

“Demon, yes,” Clentonfranelbub says patiently. “You can call me Clint, my full name’s a bit of a mouthful.”

That’s not the only thing about you that’s a mouthful, Bucky thinks. He shakes his head. No thirsting over the demon, Barnes, he tells himself. “Bucky,” he says hoarsely.

“Cool,” Clint says, looking around the apartment. “Nice place you got here.”

“Thanks,” Bucky says, still in shock. He sits in silence for a few more minutes while Clint looks around his apartment, then jumps when Clint claps.

“Alright, so what’d you summon me for? Who do you need dead, maimed, or terrified?” He peers at Bucky, looking strangely innocent despite the whole demon thing. 

“Uh, no one?” Bucky says hesitantly. “I’ve got a paper due in a day and I haven’t even started it yet, it’s worth half my grade and I really need to graduate with honours, so could you help me out with that?”

“You gave up your immortal soul... for a paper?” Clint asks, confused. “Why didn’t you just ask for an extension?”

“My prof’s a real dick,” Bucky explains, “Won’t give an extension for anything less than a heart attack.”

“I can kill your professor?” Clint offers.

“I don’t want you to kill anyone!” Bucky yelps. “I just want to get this paper done and graduate with honours so I can get the job I want and not be struggling to pay rent for the rest of my life.”

“I can help with that,” Clint says, nodding. “We’re gonna have to shake on it, though.”

“Is there like...” Bucky waves his hand vaguely. “Anything I have to say, or...?”

“Nah, just focus on what you want, shake my hand and then blow out a candle,” Clint says, shrugging.

“Cool,” Bucky says, and he does exactly that. He’s overcome with dizziness as he’s shaking Clint’s hand and he stumbles away, dropping onto the couch. “Woah.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Clint says, picking his way through the mess of candles on the floor. “Should’ve warned you. That was Hell placing a claim on your immortal soul, so when you die I’ll be back to escort you down to Hell.”

“Oh,” Bucky says, still slightly dizzy. “Well, I was going down there anyway, according to my aunt.”

“Ah,” Clint nods sagely, “You’re a telemarketer.”

“What? No,” Bucky says, finally blinking away the last of the dizziness, “I’m gay.” He rubs at his eyes and turns to face Clint, stopping dead when he sees the demon. 

“People are still saying shit like that?” Clint asks, brows furrowing. “I can almost guarantee that anyone who says that is going to Hell. We may be demons, but we’re not assholes. Well, I’m not, anyway. Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Where’d your horns go? And your feathers? And your whole demon-ness?” Bucky gestures at Clint’s body, which has been transformed into the wet dream to end all wet dreams. Abs for days, messy blond hair, eyes so blue they’re almost purple, and his biceps - holy fuck, his biceps. Bucky’s always been appreciative of a nice set of shoulders, but Clint’s shoulders make him want to get his mouth all over them. Bad Bucky, he thinks.

“Oh,” Clint says, looking down at himself critically. “Guess this’ll be a longer assignment. I get a human body when I’m up here for longer than a couple days. You got some clothes I can borrow?”

You should not wear clothes ever again, Bucky thinks, but he nods and gestures towards his bedroom, trying desperately not to (and failing) stare at Clint’s ass as he walks away. “We’re going to have to buy you some if you’re here for a while,” he says, staring at his bedroom door. “You’re bigger than me so my stuff won’t fit very well.”

“I dunno,” Clint says, walking out of Bucky’s room and running a hand through his hair. “I think they fit okay.” He’s found the only purple shirt in Bucky’s wardrobe - Bucky doesn’t wear it because it’s too big on him, which naturally means that it’s perfect for Clint - and a pair of ratty old sweatpants from one of Bucky’s exes that he never gave back, which also are just a little too small. The shirt, though. It may be too big on Bucky, but it clings deliciously to Clint’s shoulders and fuck, Bucky’s gonna have a hell of a time not thirsting over this demon. Shit.

Bucky’s too busy trying to remember how to breathe to answer him, so he nearly misses Clint’s curse as he nearly knocks something loose from his ear. “You alright there?” Bucky asks, managing to keep his voice from breaking.

“Peachy,” Clint says, fiddling with his ear. “Just found out they gave me back my hearing aids for this.”

“You have hearing aids?”

“Yeah, they’re usually on fire though,” Clint says absently. “Hey, you got any coffee?”

Bucky shrugs, still trying to wrap his head around Clint’s hearing aids just... being on fire. Because that’s a thing that they do. “Probably.” He leads Clint into the kitchen and starts making coffee. “Do demons eat?”

“We don’t have to,” Clint answers, plopping down on one of the stools. “But have you tried pizza? No way I’m missing out on that.” He watches Bucky make coffee in silence, gaze burning a hole - figuratively - into Bucky’s back as he moves about the kitchen. “So, tell me about your paper.” Bucky groans, rubbing a hand over his face. 

“Do I have to?” He asks. “Can’t you just know things?” He hands Clint his coffee mug and starts making one for himself.

“I mean, I could, but it helps me to know where you’re at with it,” Clint shrugs. “Who knows, maybe you just need someone to bounce ideas off.” 

“Ugh, fine,” Bucky says, filling his coffee mug. He sits at the table across from Clint and starts to talk. Surprisingly, Clint has some decent ideas and before long, Bucky finds himself struck with an idea he hadn’t thought of before. “Hold that thought,” he says, holding up a finger. Clint nods, taking a sip of his coffee, and Bucky rushes to his room to grab his laptop. He brings it out to the kitchen and gets to work, forgotten coffee cooling beside him.

When he looks up next, it’s one in the morning, his paper is three quarters done, and there’s a sleeping demon on his couch. He sits there, staring at Clint for a while before shaking his head and getting up to make himself more coffee. Clint mumbles something from the couch, making Bucky look over. “Didn’t catch that,” he says.

“Make me a cup too,” Clint says, his voice suddenly much closer. Bucky yelps, dropping the mug in his hands. Clint’s arm squeezes in front of him and catches it, leaving Clint pressed flush against Bucky’s back. “Thanks,” Clint says absently, and suddenly the mug is full of coffee and Clint’s walking away, leaving Bucky standing at the counter, bright red and trying to make his dick go down through sheer force of will.

“No problem,” he says, voice strangled. “Anytime.” And then he goes back to working on his paper, hoping that the boring as hell topic, whatever it is, will keep his mind off the ridiculously hot demon sprawled across his sofa.

~~

“And... done!” Bucky hits the enter key with a flourish, submitting the paper five minutes before the final deadline. 

“Congrats, Buck,” Clint says cheerfully, raising his somehow never empty mug of coffee at Bucky. “We should celebrate.”

“You’re joking, right?” Bucky scoffs. “I’ve got two more papers due next week, a quiz at the end of this week, _ and _ I still have to grade twenty-five papers from the class I’m in as a teacher’s assistant.” 

Clint squints at him. “You do realize I’m a demon, right? I could literally just snap my fingers and all that would be done?”

Bucky sighs. “Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have done it. I want to graduate the right way - present company aside - which means I have to do my work myself.”

“It’s your soul,” Clint shrugs. “Can I grade the papers for you? Surely you don’t have to do that to graduate.”

“Actually, that would help a lot,” Bucky says. “And it means we can hand out candy tonight!”

“Hand out candy? Why would we do that?” Clint asks, snapping his fingers. “Papers are done.”

“Because it’s Halloween?” Bucky says, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s today?” Clint grins. “I love Halloween!”

“Really?” 

Clint nods. “Yeah, it means I can just be myself, no glamours required.” With that said, Clint snaps his fingers again and immediately transforms into his demon self. “Boo,” he says, winking at Bucky.

“At least you kept your clothes on this time,” Bucky snorts. Just like before, he’s entranced by Clint’s demon form. The horns on his head aren’t the typical demon horns you’d expect - they’re more like a ram’s horns, curving upwards. The hearing aids hooked over his ear are still purple, but sort of... glowing? It’s like they’re on fire, without actually being on fire. His eyes are purple, not another colour to be seen - no white iris, no pupil, just purple. And they glow a little bit, which is both awesome and freaky. He’s got a set of fangs that Bucky can see when he laughs, just barely catching glimpses of teeth too sharp to be human, and a matching set of claws on his hands. 

“Like what you see?” Clint says, watching Bucky stare. He spreads his arms and turns, revealing the faint outline of feathers beneath his - Bucky’s - purple shirt, and before he can stop himself Bucky’s reaching out and tracing a finger along the faint ridge of a feather. 

“How come you have these?” He asks. Clint’s frozen under his touch, shoulders tense, and Bucky snatches his hand back. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

“No biggie,” Clint says, still facing away from Bucky. He pulls off his shirt, revealing his back, and looks at Bucky over his shoulder. “You can touch if you want.”

“Only if you’re sure,” Bucky says, and when Clint nods, he reaches out again, running his hand over the feathers in a barely discernible pattern of wings. The feathers, Bucky notices, are covering scars. Bad ones. Noting the way Clint tenses when Bucky’s hand drifts near them, he makes sure to stay away, not wanting to cause Clint any more discomfort.

“I was one of the only ones to keep my feathers after we fell,” Clint says softly. “Ever fewer kept their wings, albeit in a changed form. I’m grateful to have even this little piece of what I lost, but sometimes I wonder...”

“Wonder what?” Bucky prompts when Clint doesn’t continue. 

“Sometimes I wonder if it was crueller to leave us with feathers but no wings, or to give us wings in a mockery of what they used to be rather than to just take them away altogether.” Clint shivers as Bucky’s fingers trace over his spine and then abruptly turns around, leaving Bucky tracing Clint’s abs with his hand instead of his back. 

“No one ever said God was kind,” Bucky says softly, meeting Clint’s eyes. It’s then that he realizes that he’s still got a hand pressed to Clint’s stomach and he snatches it away, turning to busy himself with setting up the Halloween candy. 

“I suppose that’s true,” Clint says from behind him. When Bucky turns around, he’s put the shirt back on, covering up the feathers again. 

“Is your favourite colour purple or something?” Bucky asks. Clint blinks at him. “I mean, your eyes are purple, your aids are purple, you somehow managed to find the only purple shirt in my entire wardrobe - is it your favourite colour?”

“Y’know, I never really thought about it?” Clint says, looking down at the shirt. “There aren’t really very many colours in Hell, and I’m certainly not going to wear red up here. Purple’s as good a colour as any, I suppose.”

The doorbell rings and Bucky shoves a bowl of candy into Clint’s hands. “Answer the door, give them candy, compliment them on their costumes, and for crying out loud - do not scare them away!”

“This is pretty shitty candy,” Clint comments.

“Yeah, well, I’m on a student budget,” Bucky says, walking away. “Feel free to use your demon magic or whatever to make it full-sized chocolate bars.” He doesn’t hear a response but when he gets to his room, he hears the front door open and a bunch of little voices ring out in unison. 

“Trick or treat!”

“Wow, you guys look awesome!” Clint says. Bucky can hear the grin in his voice, and knowing that he’s answering the door as his demon self makes it all the more awesome. 

“So do you, mister, that’s an awesome demon costume!” One of the kids says. 

“That’s because I’m an actual demon,” Clint says seriously. “Now, who wants some candy?” The kids all make excited noises, and from the way they go up in volume a few seconds later, Bucky can only assume that Clint took his advice and changed the candy to something way better than the crappy stuff he had before. 

“Thanks, mister! Awesome costume!” The kids say as they walk away, and Bucky comes out of his room just in time to see Clint turn away from the now-closed door, an empty bowl in his hands. 

“Don’t tell me you gave them all the candy,” Bucky says, walking towards Clint. Clint’s staring down at the bowl, an awestruck look on his face. 

“None of them were scared of me,” he says quietly.

“While I’m sure you could be scary if you chose to be,” Bucky says, taking the bowl from his hands, “You aren’t very scary tonight.”

“What are you wearing?” Clint asks.

Bucky looks down at his costume. “In my defense, I had this planned long before I met you.” His white jeans and white shirt are pretty much painted on - just because he’s not going out for Halloween, doesn’t mean he can’t look good - and his halo is attached to his head via headband. He had a pair of wings that he was going to wear, but considering recent events, it seems in poor taste.

“You’re a bloody angel,” Clint says in disbelief. “You couldn’t have said something?”

“Honestly, I was going to warn you,” Bucky admits, “But then I thought it would be kind of funny to see your face. I can’t believe you gave them all the candy! That was all I bought.”

“Oh, relax,” Clint says, grabbing the bowl back from him. With another snap of his fingers, it’s full once again, this time with full-size candy bars. “I can always make more.”

“That better not be candy that makes their souls belong to Hell,” Bucky calls as the doorbell rings. 

Clint practically rushes towards it, tossing over his shoulder “Nah, that candy’s being saved for you, sweetheart.”

Bucky flushes and turns away, fixing his already-crooked halo as an excuse to hide his face. “Don’t go getting a crush on the demon, Barnes,” he tells himself in the mirror. “That won’t end well.”

“Hey, Bucky, come check this out!” Clint calls from the doorway, and Bucky looks himself over in the mirror before heading over. 

“Wow, these are some incredible costumes,” he says, grinning. There’s a devil and an angel standing in the doorway. 

“If you’re an angel, where are your wings?” The little angel asks. 

Bucky winks at him. “I got paint on them, so they’re in the wash.”

“What kinda paint?”

“Purple paint,” Bucky answers, hearing Clint’s sharp intake of breath behind him. “Now, who wants some candy?” When Clint hands him the bowl and he shows it to them, they stare at him. 

“Full-size candy bars?” The devil asks. 

“Take as many as you want, I mean it,” Bucky says, offering them the bowl. “I have tons, so make sure that you give some to whoever’s taking you two out tonight, okay?”

“Okay mister,” they both say, before taking about ten candy bars each. “Thanks!” Bucky and Clint go back inside and set the bowl down on a little table next to the door. 

“Purple paint, huh?” Clint says, his eyes sparkling. Literally, it looks like there’s glitter in his eyes. 

Bucky shrugs, feigning indifference. “It’s a good a colour as any, I suppose.”


	2. November

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are feelings, and things get messy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO in this chapter, we earn our explicit rating folks!! There _may_ or _may not be_ moderately kinky demon sex, by which I mean any sex had with Clint in his demon form automatically gains a moderately kinky label because he's a demon, folks. BUUUUUUUUT it's mostly feelings. Enjoy!
> 
> Also written for Star Spangled Bingo Square I3 - First Time Together.  
Also, also written for Winterhawk Bingo Square O3 - PDA.

**Bucky - November**

“Don’t forget to order pizza!” Clint hollers from the bedroom he’s claimed as his own. It used to be the spare room, but Clint sleeps naked, and Bucky got tired of scrambling to cover his immediate boner upon being presented with Clint in all his glory before he’d even had his first cup of coffee.

“You could order it yourself, y’know, you have hands!” Bucky calls back, already rifling through their takeout menu drawer. 

“But you’re so much _ better _ at it,” Clint whines, making Bucky laugh.

“You’re such a fucking loser,” he says fondly. “Meat lovers okay?”

“Well, I know you are but what am I?” Clint answers, his standard response to that question. As always, it makes Bucky groan, laugh, and roll his eyes. 

“You’ve been alive _ how _ many years, and your jokes are still that bad? C’mon, Clint, do better.” Bucky snickers to himself at Clint’s outraged squawk, and the following thump that means he’s fallen off the bed. 

“You’re so mean to me,” Clint whines, startling Bucky as he drapes himself across Bucky’s back. “Why won’t you just be nice to me?”

“I’m not a nice person,” Bucky deadpans, shaking Clint off and moving away to hide the flush on his cheeks.

“Uh, yeah, I’m calling bullshit on that Bucko,” Clint says, darting in front of him. Putting his hands on Bucky’s shoulders, Clint stares him in the eye. “You literally almost cried when you saw a couple random kids pet a dog dressed as Santa Paws on Halloween? No ‘not a nice’ person does that. Face it, Bucko. You’re a softie at heart.”

Bucky turns pink. “Yeah, yeah, you gonna let me go so I can order the pizza or what?” Clint lets him go and Bucky scrambles away, feeling the burn of Clint’s gaze on the back of his neck as he grabs his phone from his bedroom. He takes a few seconds to will the flush of arousal off his face, then orders the pizza and heads back into the living room. 

“Come watch a movie with me!” Clint shouts from the couch. Bucky turns to look at him and nearly busts a gut laughing. Clint’s so wrapped up in blankets that all you can see is his face, and he just looks so adorable that Bucky’s brain nearly flips over trying to process it. 

“Aw, you’re adorable,” Bucky says through his laughter. Fuck. He did not mean to say that.

“Feeling’s mutual, pal,” Clint winks. He pulls a blanket away from his body and extends an arm to Bucky. “Now c’mere and watch a movie with me while we wait for our pizza.” Bucky walks over to the couch, hesitantly perching on the edge. 

“Oof!” He grunts, nearly falling right onto Clint’s crotch as Clint yanks him close. 

“What, you afraid you’re gonna catch my cooties?” Cint teases, moving Bucky around until he’s basically the little spoon. “Comfy, right?” Clint says, wrapping the blanket around them both. 

“Surprisingly, yes,” Bucky says, already struggling to keep his eyes open. Clint’s just so warm, and Bucky’s exhausted after staying up all night grading papers.

“Sleep, Bucky,” Clint says softly, his chest rumbling against Bucky’s back. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Kay,” Bucky mumbles, eyes drifting shut. “Don’ eat all the pizza.” Clint laughs softly, and it’s that sound that Bucky carries into his dreams as he falls asleep, warm and cozy on the couch.

~~

After Bucky falls asleep on the couch snuggling with Clint, something shifts. Clint’s a lot more touchy-feely with Bucky now, letting his hands linger whenever he gives Bucky something, flopping across Bucky’s body when he’s sitting on the couch... And Bucky’s fine with it, really. He is. 

Except that now, the time he spends in his shower or his bedroom jerking off is at an all-time high, and Bucky’s just rushed off to his room to do it again. Which explains the current situation of Bucky, his pants and underwear halfway down his legs, hand wrapped around his cock, and Clint, standing in the doorway of his bedroom, one hand on the doorknob, staring at Bucky.

“So, this is what you’ve been rushing off to do,” Clint says finally, leaning against the doorframe. 

“What happened to knocking?” Bucky retorts, pulling his underwear up and avoiding eye contact.

“What happened to locking the door?” Clint says in response. “Y’know, Buck, if you wanted to be left alone to jerk off, all you had to do is say so.”

“I want to be left alone to jerk off,” Bucky says immediately, pulling his pants up.

“There ya go, was that so hard?” Clint winks. He snorts. “Well, clearly it was hard.”

“Fuck you,” Bucky grumbles, shoving his way past Clint out of his room and into the kitchen.

“Only if you say please,” Clint answers, following Bucky out. They’ve made jokes like that before, but something about Clint’s voice this time makes him look up. 

“You’re serious,” he says in disbelief. 

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Buck, but you’re pretty fuckin’ hot,” Clint says, pushing off the wall and walking towards him. “I’d have to be massively fucking stupid not to want in your pants. Plus, y’know, like I said, you’re a real fuckin’ sweetheart, and I got a soft spot for you.”

“This is not how I thought my day was going to go,” Bucky says, staring at Clint in disbelief. “Here I was, expecting to just do some homework, maybe jerk off a little, and now I’m being propositioned by you.”

“Your day’s looking up,” Clint jokes, but Bucky can hear the undercurrent of nervousness in his voice. 

“That’s not the only thing that’s up,” Bucky answers, wrapping his arms around Clint’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss. It’s messy and hot and there’s more teeth than tongue, and it’s absolutely perfect. Bucky lets out a strangled moan as Clint moves down to his neck, leaving bruises in his wake. “Holy shit,” he breathes.

“Ain’t nothing holy about me, sweetheart,” Clint growls, and when he lifts his head, Bucky sees that his eyes are flashing between the blue of his human form and the purple of his demon form. 

“You don’t have to stay in this form,” Bucky blurts out, bright red. “I, uh. Don’t mind the other one.”

Clint blinks at him, then a grin spreads across his face. “Oh, really?” He leers, and between one breath and the next, he’s shifted to his demon form. “You got a thing for my demon self, baby?”

“Fuck yes,” Bucky breathes, wrapping his hands around Clint’s horns and tugging gently. Clint hisses through his teeth as Bucky bites down on his neck none-too-gently. “Any no-go areas?”

Clint shrugs, carrying Bucky towards his bedroom. “Nah, you can pretty much do whatever.”

Bucky leans back, cupping Clint’s face in his hands. “Hey, no. You don’t want me to touch somewhere or do something, you have to tell me. This isn’t gonna work otherwise.”

“Okay, sorry,” Clint apologizes, “Habit. Don’t touch my ears, please.”

“Okay,” Bucky agrees, “Don’t touch my feet.” He kisses Clint again, cutting off whatever snarky comment he was going to make. Clint leans him over the bed, not breaking their kiss, and knee-walks up the bed until Bucky is flat on his back and Clint is hovering over him, eyes burning with a purple flame. 

“How are you with teeth?” Clint asks. Bucky groans as his dick jumps in his pants. “I’ll take that as a yes please,” Clint smirks. 

“Please do,” Bucky says, worming a hand in between them to unzip his pants. “Please tell me you top.”

“I prefer topping, yes,” Clint says, watching Bucky wiggle out of his pants.

“Oh, thank - well. Never mind.” Bucky tosses his pants over the side of the bed and pulls his shirt over his head, eyeing Clint’s still fully clothed form. “You gonna get naked, stud, or am I gonna have to do everything myself?”

“Just admiring the view,” Clint says simply, watching him. “But if you’re that impatient, I suppose I can shed a few layers.” He snaps his fingers, and immediately his clothes are gone, revealing the body that Bucky’s been drooling over for weeks now. Clint sits back on his knees, letting Bucky drink his fill. His cock juts out from between his legs, long and curved and thick enough to make Bucky’s mouth water. 

“Next time, I’m sucking your dick,” he says, eyes glued to aforementioned dick. 

“I think I can live with that,” Clint chuckles. He puts a hand on Bucky’s chest and pushes gently, making Bucky recline onto his back. “How do you wanna do this?”

“Open me up, then fuck me,” Bucky says bluntly. “I may or may not have been thinking about this since you appeared in my living room for the first time.”

“I like a guy who knows what he wants,” Clint says, smirking, and then he snaps his fingers, making lube appear in his hand, slicks up two fingers and starts opening Bucky up gently. Bucky’s a little worried about the claws, but when Clint’s fingers slide into him claws-free, he figures Clint has it covered. 

After Clint teases him with two fingers for what seems like forever, grazing across his prostate until Bucky is leaking onto his stomach and cursing him, he _ finally _ adds a third finger. Bucky hisses at the slight stretch, pushing down onto Clint’s fingers. “Fuck, Clint, do that again,” he moans as Clint brushes past his prostate again. 

“Greedy,” Clint scolds, but he does as Bucky asks, this time pressing more firmly onto his prostate.

“You did hear me when I said I’d been thinking about this since I summoned you, right?” Bucky asks.

“Sure, I heard you,” Clint answers, adding another finger, “That’s why I have to make this good for you. For both of us. Gotta make it worth the wait.” Clint’s fingers slide out of him, leaving Bucky feeling empty, and he whines unconsciously. “Condom?” Clint asks, stroking his side soothingly.

“Drawer,” Bucky grits out, fisting his hands in the bedsheets. Clint pulls a condom out of the drawer and rolls it on, then settles above Bucky. 

“You ready?” He asks, searching Bucky’s face.

“If you do not get in me right now I swear I will cry,” Bucky threatens. 

“Well, can’t have that,” Clint answers. He starts to push into Bucky, both of them hissing when the head of his cock slides into Bucky.

“Fuck, you’re massive,” Bucky grunts, eyes nearly rolling back in his head as Clint’s dick just. Keeps. Going. Clint mutters something into his shoulder, stopping halfway. “You okay?”

“If I keep going I’m going to come, and that’s just rude,” Clint mutters, lifting his head to meet Bucky’s gaze. Bucky laughs. And then groans as he clenches down on Clint, making Clint grab his side and prick him with his claws accidentally. “Shit, sorry,” Clint winces, pulling his hand away. 

“‘S okay,” Bucky says, pulling it back. “I don’t mind.”

Clint grins at him. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he breathes, ducking down to kiss Bucky again. Using the kiss as a distraction, he slides the rest of the way into Bucky, leaving them both panting into each other’s mouths as they adjust.

“Move,” Bucky groans into Clint’s mouth, Clint’s fangs catching his bottom lip as he speaks, “Please.”

“You’re the boss,” Clint murmurs, pressing a kiss to the spot his fangs caught and pulling back. He pushes back into Bucky, splitting him open all over again, and Bucky cries out, squeezing his eyes shut and just _ feeling _ it. Clint pins one of Bucky’s hands above his head, entwining their fingers, and rolls his hips again, grinding against Bucky, slow and dirty. “You feel so good around me, baby,” he groans, leaning down and kissing across Bucky’s face. 

“Fuck, I’m ruined for anyone else,” Bucky says, gasping as Clint hits a particularly sensitive spot inside him. 

“I can go faster,” Clint offers. 

Bucky shakes his head. “No-_ oh _! Fuck, just like this. Wanna come on your cock, nothing else. Like this.”

Clint thrusts into him again, glancing across his prostate, and Bucky cries out, the noise somehow seeming far too loud in this little bubble they’ve created for themselves. They keep going like that, swallowing each other’s moans with kisses, keeping things slow and intimate. Bucky’s orgasm is like a pot boiling over, he can sense it coming but when it finally hits, he’s taken by surprise. “Clint, fuck I’m gonna -” He comes shouting Clint’s name, back arching as the pleasure overtakes him. 

“Bucky, baby, you’re so gorgeous when you come, fuck, baby, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Clint babbles, never speeding up his thrusts, always keeping them at that same slow pace, all the way up until he comes with a long drawn-out moan of Bucky’s name, filling him up inside. 

They’re both left panting in Bucky’s bed, come and sweat and lube cooling on Bucky’s stomach and between his legs. “Damn,” Bucky says, eyes wide. 

Clint huffs a laugh. “Glad I could please.” He pulls out of Bucky, removes the condom and tosses it into the trash, then starts to move towards the door. 

“Hey, where you going?” Bucky asks, propping himself up on his elbows.

“Out of here?” Clint asks, looking unsure. “Thought this was a one-time thing.”

“Uh, no,” Bucky says, flopping back down on his bed and making grabby hands at Clint. “Definitely _ not _ a one time thing. C’mere and stay here, I require post-coital cuddles.”

“If you’re sure,” Clint says, still hesitant. 

“Just get your cute demonic ass over here,” Bucky snorts. Clint grins at him, the smile lighting up his face and belly flops onto the bed. 

They wiggle around until Bucky’s the little spoon again and then Clint says, “Thank you.”

“Always happy to get demonically dicked down,” Bucky answers, making Clint laugh. “Shush now, sleepytimes.” Clint shushes and Bucky falls asleep, pleasantly sore and with a smile on his face.

~~

They’re rudely awoken in the morning by Steve slamming his way into Bucky’s bedroom, shouting something about something. It goes blissfully silent and Bucky rolls over, planting his face into Clint’s decidedly human chest (still yum) and attempting to fall back asleep. “So, _ this _ is why you’ve been irritatingly hard to get ahold of these past weeks?” Steve says incredulously. 

Bucky groans. “You’re not going away, are you?” He says into Clint’s chest. 

“Not until I get an explanation,” Steve says, far too cheerfully for the time of day.

“Fuck you,” Bucky mutters, “Go start the coffee. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“I’ll be back with ice water if you aren’t,” Steve threatens perkily.

“Fucking annoying best friends,” Bucky grumbles, relishing in the inhuman (heh) amount of heat that Clint puts off for another second before rolling out of bed, pulling on a pair of sweats and ambling towards his kitchen. 

“So he’s fucking hot,” Steve says as he enters, passing him a steaming mug of coffee. “That makes ignoring literally every friend you have for a whole two weeks marginally less awful.”

“Gimme a second before you start with that, will ya?” Bucky pleads, holding up a hand to cut Steve off.

Predictably, Steve waits exactly a second before opening his mouth again. “So, what’s his name? Why don’t I know about him? I thought we were friends, James Buchanan, and now I find out you’re hiding your latest whatever-he-is from me? What would your mother say?”

“She’s probably fuckin’ applaud me for keeping your nosy ass out of it til now,” Bucky mumbles into his mug, “And then ask why she didn’t know about it.”

“Fair and accurate,” Steve nods, “So is he good in bed? How many times have you fucked? Does he top? Does he have any friends? Can I -”

“Jesus goddamn Christ, Steven Grant, are you gonna let me get a word in between all those questions?”

Steve shrugs. “If you answer them properly.”

Bucky groans, takes a large swig of his coffee, and then, “Yes, once, yes, none you’d like.”

Steve blinks. “Last night was your first time? Why didn’t you say so? I would’ve left.”

“No, you would not have left, you would have been just this damn nosy and you would have forgotten to make a second cup so that Clint’s not a literal demon when he wakes up.” Bucky sighs and gets up from his spot to make another mug of coffee for Clint. “You think I’m joking, but I’m really not,” he says to Steve.

There’s a thump from the bedroom and a yelp, and Bucky rolls his eyes. “Baby, do I need pants?” Clint’s voice calls.

‘Baby?’ Steve mouths at Bucky.

Bucky ignores him. “Unfortunately, my idiot of a best friend doesn’t look like he’s leaving anytime soon, so yeah sweetheart, pants are a good idea.” Clint doesn’t respond but there’s some more thumps from the bedroom before he comes out, clad only in a pair of purple boxer-briefs hanging dangerously low on his hips. 

“Hello, idiot of a best friend,” Clint greets Steve before kissing Bucky on the cheek and grabbing his mug from the machine. “Thanks for interrupting the morning after.”

“Nice to meet you too, Clint,” Steve says, raising an eyebrow as Clint downs his mug in seconds and goes back for more. Used to Clint’s filterless morning self, Bucky just rolls his eyes and takes another sip from his mug as Clint plasters himself to Bucky’s back. 

“Clint, this is Steve. We’ve known each other forever and he’s been the biggest pain in my ass since we were kids - if you make an ass joke right now, you’re sleeping on the couch.” Bucky feels more than sees Clint pout into his shoulder.

“Aw, ass joke, no,” he whines, the brush of his lips over Bucky’s skin doing something that Bucky chooses to ignore with his best friend standing literally right there, eyes widening progressively. “Can I make an ass joke later?”

“Only if you’re face deep in it,” Bucky answers, snorting when Clint chokes on air and lifts his head. 

“Deal,” Clint says quickly, snagging his second mug of coffee from the machine and slinging an arm around Bucky’s shoulders. They stand there, sharing each other’s warmth and watching Steve’s eyes dart between them. 

“So, tell me, Clint,” Steve starts, “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m an archery instructor,” Clint says easily. “I work at the rec centre part-time, teaching kids how to shoot. Mostly I just hang around being the demon on Bucky’s shoulder, though. Family inheritance.” Bucky’s coffee goes down the wrong pipe and he has to turn away, coughing until he gets some air into his lungs again.

“More like the demon up my ass,” he mutters. 

Clint leers at him. “That’s what you were saying last night,” he winks.

Bucky laughs. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“_ You _ don’t make sense,” Clint says, sticking out his tongue. He hauls Bucky back into his arms and plants a kiss on his lips, ignoring both their coffee breath. “Morning, baby.”

“Morning, sweetheart,” Bucky says softly, flushing at the outright display of affection. A throat clearing from across the kitchen stops him from staring into Clint’s eyes as long as he’d like, and when he looks over, Steve is sliding a piece of paper across the island. 

“Game night tomorrow. Bring him. And booze.” With that and a wave, Steve’s gone from Bucky’s apartment, no doubt pulling his phone out of his pocket the second he’s out the door to text the group chat about Clint.

“We don’t have to go,” Bucky says immediately, facing Clint again. “Not if you don’t want to.”

“You’re joking, right?” Clint says, leaning forward and grabbing the piece of paper. “I’ve never been to a mortal game night before. It’ll be fun.”

“It would be nice to see my friends again,” Bucky says. “Okay. But we have to get you your own clothes. Mine are way too small.”

“I could just wear _ no _ clothes,” Clint leers. 

Bucky laughs. “Yeah, no. That’s for me only, pal, and don’t you forget it.” He pokes Clint in the chest, yelping in laughter when Clint scoops him up and carries him back to the bedroom.

“I could never forget that,” Clint says, kicking the door shut behind them. “I’m all yours, baby.”

~~

“You’re sure you wanna go?” Bucky asks, fussing with Clint’s shirt. “We don’t have to go, there’s still time to back out.”

“Baby,” Clint says, catching Bucky’s hands between his, “I want to go. I want to meet your friends. What’s the matter?”

“I just...” Bucky sighs. “I want them to like you.”

“Isn’t that something I should be worried about?” Clint jokes. Seeing the look on Bucky’s face, Clint leans in and kisses him gently, not letting up until Bucky relaxes, going pliant beneath him. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, baby, and if it’s not I’ll just rewind the evening until we get it right.”

“You can do that?” Bucky exclaims. Clint maintains a serious face for about two more seconds, then cracks and starts laughing. “Asshole,” Bucky mutters, shoving him. 

“C’mon, we’re gonna be late,” Clint says, smacking another kiss onto Bucky’s cheek. “Where are we going, anyway?”

“Steve’s place,” Bucky says as they walk out the door, locking it behind him. “It’s not far, so we’re walking there. Depending on how drunk we get, we might be staying there too.”

“Mmm, demons can’t get drunk on human alcohol,” Clint says. “So I’ll carry you home if you end up not wanting to stay.”

“Aw, best demon boyfriend,” Bucky coos, pinching Clint’s cheek.

“Is that what I am?” Clint says, raising an eyebrow. 

Bucky shrugs. “If you want. Is there another label you’d prefer?”

Clint shakes his head. “Demon boyfriend is fine.” The rest of the walk to Steve’s place passes quickly, the two of them exchanging joking banter, always keeping at least one point of contact between them. Clint’s arm over Bucky’s shoulders, Bucky’s arm around Clint’s waist - that sort of thing. 

Bucky’s never really been this touchy with all his previous boyfriends - not that there are a lot of them, mind - but he likes it. Makes him feel cared for, gives him the warm fuzzies. They stay connected all the way up to Steve’s front door, which, upon them knocking, swings open to reveal Sam, who takes one look at them and yells over his shoulder, “You were right, Steve, they are gross.”

“Fuck you too, Wilson,” Bucky says cheerfully, shoving his way inside past Sam and dragging Clint behind him. “Clint, this is Steve’s boyfriend, unfortunately, Sam Wilson. Pay attention to nothing he says, it’s all fucking dumb anyway.”

“I resent that!” Sam calls from where he’s shutting the door. 

“I resent you!” Bucky answers. 

Clint snorts. “I can tell you two get along famously,” he says to Bucky. 

“Sam’s okay, when he’s not being a complete ass,” Bucky says, shrugging, “Which is never, so.”

“Fuck you, Barnes,” Sam says, nudging Bucky out of the way. 

“Sorry, that’s my job,” Clint deadpans, pulling Bucky into his arms. Bucky cackles with laughter as Sam stares, two beers forgotten in his hands. 

“Oh god, there’s two of them,” he mutters. He jerks his head towards their living room. “Thor’s already here, so are Tony, Pepper, and Rhodey, but no one else is here yet.”

“Do we even have any other friends?” Bucky asks, snagging a beer from Sam’s hands.

Sam stops, blinking. “Maria, maybe?” He tries.

“She only hangs out with us when Sharon and Peggy are in town, and that’s only because she’s super gay for Sharon,” Bucky says, shaking his head. “Bruce?”

Sam points at him. “Bruce is our friend. How come I didn’t invite him instead of you?”

“Because game night brings out his competitive side and he hates literally everything about that?” Bucky answers. “Go bring your boyfriend a beer, Wilson, I’ve had enough of you.”

“I’d stay out of spite, but I feel like you guys would start making out just to gross me out,” Sam says, eyeing them suspiciously as he backs out of the kitchen.

“He’s not wrong,” Bucky shrugs. He turns around and wraps his arms around Clint’s neck. “You alright? We can be a lot for a newbie.”

Clint scoffs. “I am literally a demon, Buck. I’ve lived in hell for literal millennia, seeing the worst humanity has to offer every day for most of my life.”

Bucky blinks. “So you’re confused as shit, then.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Clint nods. They both crack a smile. 

“Alright, well here’s the basics,” Bucky says, leading Clint to the door of the living room. “That’s Thor,” he says, pointing to the massive blond man sitting next to Steve, one hand on his thigh. “He’s Sam and Steve’s sometime-fuck buddy, sometime-boyfriend - we’re not really sure what they are, but they’ve been circling each other for years now.”

“Questionable polyamorous threesome, got it,” Clint nods. 

“Tony, Pepper, and Rhodey,” Bucky says next, pointing to each person as he says their name. “Also a polyamorous threesome, but much less questionable. They’ve been together since literally the beginning of time - that is, longer than any of us can remember.”

“Don’t hit on the terrifying lady and her boyfriends, understood.”

“You’ve met Sam and Steve already, and I don’t think anyone else is coming tonight anyway. You’ll meet Bruce at some point, he prefers movie nights over game nights.” Bucky looks back at Clint. “All good?”

“Two polyamorous throuples, don’t hit on Pepper, kick their asses at game night,” Clint says, winking. “I think I’m good.”

Bucky snorts, then tugs Clint into the living room, pushing him down onto the couch and settling onto his lap. “All, this is Clint. Clint, these are my friends. Pay no attention to any embarrassing stories they may try to tell you.”

“Well, now I have to pay attention to those stories,” Clint jokes. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

“So you’re the one keeping our James away from us,” Thor booms.

“Believe me, handsome, if I’d known all his friends were this good looking - Sam aside - I’d have shown up ages ago,” Clint winks. Sam squawks in outrage and that breaks the tension in the room as they all laugh at Sam’s spluttering. 

“He’s already being indoctrinated against me, this is - this is - well, I don’t know _ what _ it is, but I don’t like it!” Sam pouts, and Thor wraps an arm around his shoulders. 

“Don’t fret, little one,” he says gently, “You are still mighty attractive to some other people.”

“Yeah, two in general,” Tony mutters, getting a smack on the leg from Pepper and a snort out of Rhodey.

“Anyway,” Steve interrupts, before it can devolve any further, “Shall we get game night started?”

“As long as it’s not Monopoly,” Bucky grumbles. 

~~

Bucky loses at Monopoly. Miserably. He’s bankrupt within half an hour, shoving all his properties at Clint and slumping back into his boyfriend’s chest. Surprisingly, Clint is amazing at Monopoly, kicking everyone’s ass. Except Steve. The two of them get into a Monopoly fight that ends up lasting hours, and by the time they call a truce, the only ones left are Sam, Thor, Clint, Steve and Bucky.

“He’s gotta be blessed by angels,” Sam says suspiciously. “No one comes this close to beating Steve at Monopoly.”

Bucky chokes on his beer. “More like he made a deal with the devil,” he says when he’s recovered.

“That seems much more fitting for Clint,” Thor says, letting Sam lean into his bulk. “He seems to have a devilish attitude about him.”

Buddy, you have no idea, Bucky thinks. “He’s certainly devilishly good in bed,” he winks, relishing in Sam’s disgusted look.

“Boy, I do not need to know those things!” He says, scrunching his nose. “In fact, keep any and all facts about your sex life to yourself, got it?”

Bucky shrugs innocently. “Fine, guess you’ll just have to hear them from Steve.” Sam scowls at him but says nothing, and Bucky grins at his win. 

“You ready to go home, baby?” Clint says, his voice a deep rumble in Bucky’s ear as he wraps his arms around Bucky and rests his chin on Bucky’s shoulder. 

“Mmm,” Bucky nods, “Tired.”

“Guess we’d better head out then,” Clint says, nodding at Steve, Sam and Thor. “It was nice to meet you guys, let’s do this again sometime, yeah?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Thor says, shaking Clint’s hand vigorously. 

“You ain’t half bad, despite your taste in men,” Sam sniffs, tipping his beer to Clint as he and Bucky pull on their shoes. 

“Make sure he gets home safe,” Steve says, ever the protective friend. 

“He promised me to carry me home,” Bucky says, draping himself over Clint’s front. “I’ll get home _ very _ safe.” He wiggles his eyebrows and Steve snorts. 

“We’ll be okay,” Clint assures him. “Water and aspirin, soon as I get him into bed.” Before Bucky can open his mouth to make some lewd comment involving Clint and his bed and varying degrees of nakedness, they’re halfway down the steps of Steve’s house, door closing behind them. Clint does actually carry Bucky all the way home, then undresses him and gets him water and aspirin, just like he promised, before climbing into bed beside him. 

“Best boyfriend ever,” Bucky slurs, rolling over and planting his face in Clint’s chest. “Night.”

“Night, baby,” Clint says softly, and that’s the last thing that Bucky hears before falling into a dead sleep.


End file.
